


Deathbringer

by unlitstars



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: ...and I still don’t know how to write romance, :-), Alternative Universe - Fantasy, Alternative Universe - Medieval, Angst, Author needs sleep, Author needs to learn to stop writing past 22:30, Bad Luck, Changing POVs, Confession, Corpse magnet on a whole other level, Crying, Dancing, Death, Discrimination, Disguise, Dramatic at times, F/M, First Kiss, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I don’t know what words are anymore, I swear I love Shinichi, Isolation, Loneliness, M/M, NO READER POV DESPITE SUMMARY, OOC-ness, Romance, Sadness, Secret Identity, Self-Hatred, Self-blaming, Shinichi loves dancing, Shinichi loves rain, Shinichi needs hugs, Shinichi-centric, Stuff the BO, Why does this remind me of Cinderella?, armycommander!Ginzou, balls, corpsemagnet!Shinichi, cross-dressing, first chapter fic, healer!Akako, ish, kind of, kinda fem!Shinichi, knight!Kaito, no BO, noble!Ran, noble!Sonoko, not historically accurate, prince!Saguru, why do I do this to myself?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-04 00:03:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14580573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unlitstars/pseuds/unlitstars
Summary: Once was an accident.Twice was a coincidence.Thrice was a pattern.And he was stuck in the middle of it all, trapped in a never-ending cycle of finding victims of appalling crimes. Or maybe, he thought with a shudder, even indirectly causing them.He just couldn’t.“The Deathbringer,” the people whispered, their eyes wide with gleeful fear, “was just a little child like you and I were. He walked this earth and he drank this water, before Death started to follow him how a puppy would his master.  It was attached to him, oh, oh so attached. You couldn’t separate the two.” They barked a short laugh, as if remembering some particularly savoury details. “No one was safe.” They paused, breathless, their hands on your knees. “One day, he left. Packed up his things and tried to leave it all behind. Oh, the poor boy.” They smiled, a flimsy thing that betrayed their true intent. “He was never seen again. But, we all know where he really went.” Their smiles grew wider, leaning closer and closer. “Over there,” they pointed behind you, their fingers trembling.“The Beika Forest.”medieval!fantasy!AU





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. I am back, but with a chapter fic this time. Yay! As I had mentioned in “That Night” (now “Traces of Love” because I was struck with inspiration and honestly, it is very fitting but anyway), I am interested in angst and so, this idea I’ve been throwing around for a while kinda just...happened. I don’t actually know if it is angsty. I hope it is. Really.
> 
> So enjoy this fic and happy reading!
> 
> P.S. ~~I will aim to update every two weeks (I cannot function with a schedule, but maybe, it will be less than two weeks or I go on a random hiatus) with probably another update on Kaito’s birthday.~~ I will now be updating this whenever I finish a chapter.
> 
> Disclaimer: As much as I would love to own Detective Conan or Magic Kaito, I don’t—otherwise there would be a hell lot more of Kaito and his heists—as it belongs to Gosho Aoyama.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **You do not need to read the following notes. I was just writing random-ish stuff.**
> 
> This AU is based after all that I’ve learnt from a brief topic on the feudal system in the Middle Ages (Medieval Europe and Medieval Japan but mostly Medieval England) and my favourite book series which is set in around the same time frame. It’s mostly not accurate as Shinichi and Kaito do live in Japan so this is all just a figment of my imagination so please, please don’t take it as the real thing.
> 
> Also there just had to be a ton of books. Stuff history.
> 
> Well, actually, I think it’s closer to something like Victorian England, but with castles and stuff from the Middle Ages. I honestly don’t know. It’s just really whatever works.

He was barely ten years old when it first happened.

Sent on an errand from his father, he made his way to the busy village square. There, where most of the trades could be found, was the centre of noise, a stark contrast to the quiet, empty streets nearby. He flitted from store to store, pausing only when something caught his eye. “Young sir!” A vendor called out, gesturing to him. “You won’t find better, or fresher, fruits anywhere else!” Interested, he skipped merrily towards the vendor, his basket - already over half full - dangling from his arm. He nodded in appreciation at the fruits. The vendor hadn’t been lying when he said they were the best and the freshest. Engrossed in this task as he was, he almost missed the sudden rise in activity around him. Hurriedly, he paid for all of the ones he had chosen, determined to find the cause of the hubbub as more and more people in the square collected near one corner. Even the shopkeepers and passersby curiously stole glances at the gathering crowd, their heads tilted in question to the side. Even on his way to the heart of the crowd, he could hear murmurs under all the louder, normal conversations and caught a few words in passing, as he pushed and dodged his way to the middle.

“—foaming at the mouth—”

“—call a healer, and quickly!”

“—a man, just—”

Closer and closer he went, louder and louder were these same murmurs, rephrased and spoken by a different person every time. Sometimes they were in the high-pitched voice of a child younger than he, laden with childhood innocence, blind to the dark meaning that underlay those words. Sometimes they were in the low drawl of a full-grown man, his deep voice filled with worry and fear, for whom, he didn’t know. Even these ominous words didn’t discourage him from advancing. Finally, with his persistence, he made it past all the people.

He should have never been so curious. He should have turned back a long time ago.

A man, no older than forty years, was writhing in pain, his body twisted, rolling upon the well-worn stones. Space was cleared, giving the poor man some room, as the people watched with unadulterated horror at what was occurring in a place so full of happiness and children. The foam dripped from his pale lips as he struggled to stand, his thin face contorted in agony, his hands grasping at his throat. In a great showcase of strength, he managed to stand up and staggered, somehow achieved through the immense amount of pain he must had been in, taking a shaky step after shaky step, his chest heaving with every breath.

Slowly, the man turned around, seemingly surveying the now-silent surroundings around him. He fixated his gaze on him, his trembling fingers reaching out to blindly grab at thin air. By then, he was no more than two metres away from the boy, showing him all the gruesome details clearly before his wide eyes. 'Tou-san, he remembered thinking, ‘Kaa-san, help me. Save me. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t tear his eyes away. Stop, just stop advancing, he silently begged, staring straight into the man’s bloodshot, brown eyes, hoping he could get the message across. He seemed to understand, because he whispered a single word before he collapsed onto the ground, unmoving.

“Sorry.”

They screamed. Their piercing screams cut through the stilled air, startling children out of their trances and prompting the parents to begin ushering their children away from so terrible a scene. It was chaos, and yet, he did not notice a single thing.

“Make way!” A voice yelled above the others - an impressive feat, considering all the screams - with the ease of having done this many, many times before. “The healer is here!”

And still, he stood there, frozen.

Shapes and colours blurred together in his vision, flickers of movement far too quick for his brain to recognise. He stayed rooted to his spot, his staring fixated on where the man had once lain, his basket held loosely by only his fingertips.

It wasn’t until someone shook him by the shoulders and told him to go home did he realise that the sun was setting, painting the sky a vibrant orange and blue, and then, only then did he come out of his daze.

That night, he couldn’t sleep a wink. When he did, the next night, his mind was haunted by that pair of eyes; of how they had gone, in an instant, from bloodshot, _alive_ to a brown, _dead_  the next. He couldn’t forget it, he couldn’t forget him, he couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t stop his brain from replaying the scene over and over and over again.

He wished he had never been so curious. 

─────────────

Everyone knew of the boy who had been in almost direct contact with the dying man, with some offering up small sympathies and pitying looks. He hardly noticed them, still helplessly lost in the events of the past. He had barely said a word since then, save for small necessities, preferring to shut his feelings and thoughts inside than break the silence. But the word of mouth and the looks given were more than enough to fill in the blanks for his parents, who had stood worriedly against his door, when he locked himself inside. 

Everyone knew of why the man died, from vaguely to knowing all the details. His lifelong enemy had poisoned his food that day and it was just unfortunate timing that the healer took so long to arrive on the scene. So it must be coincidence, they all realised, that the man had staggered towards the poor boy. It must be coincidence that he had whispered sorry to a child the same age as his daughter. It must be coincidence that he had been there in the first place. But by then, it was too late. The news had already spread like wildfire, the truth burning in the wake of its destructive path.

Everyone knew of the common poison which the man was administered, but no one stepped in to help him, choosing to let him suffer through the agony. The man was better off dead, they all said, with a heart as dark as his. It did the town a favour. Yet some still argued, trying to justify why it was right for them to stand by and watch a man die when they could have done _something_. We didn’t have the proper ingredients, they said, we wouldn’t have changed anything. And so they didn’t.

But what everyone didn’t know was that it would happen again, with the tragedies falling upon the quiet town like raindrops in a thunderstorm.

─────────────

The boy sprinted into his school, his eyes shining with big, rolling tears, his arms waving frantically in the air. He almost crashed into his teacher, with his legs working as fast as they could. He came to an abrupt stop, gasping for air, clutching onto her arm. His teacher looked down at him quizzically, trying to determine why he was in such a rush. “Hel...help.” he choked, desperately trying to convey his message. “There...” he pointed, his finger quivering. “There’s a...a woman.” He was filled with an uncontrollable fear, she later realised, shuddering from head to toe.

Even so, he led her by clutching onto her hand like a lifeline, each of his steps getting slower and more uncertain as they neared the destination, salty water dripping carelessly onto the path. When she saw her, however, she recoiled in shock, only his hand anchoring her in place, as he stood there determinedly, staring further past her into empty space.

There was a woman, lying dead, crimson blood pooled around her head.

She screamed. She couldn’t help it. Now she was the one clutching to his hand like a lifeline, as he still stood there, his silent tears flowing carelessly down his pale face. He led her back, mumbling apologies about how he shouldn’t have showed her, but she was the first person he came across. Apologising for not warning her, but thought someone else should know. He just kept whispering sorry, over and over and over again, looking down at his muddy shoes.

When she finally came to her senses, she crouched down, making sure she was level with him, gripped his shoulders gently, forcing him to look at her. “Don’t apologise. It wasn’t your fault she...” she paused, unaware of how she continue that sentence. “...that happened to her.” He just cried louder, falling limply into her waiting arms as she caught him in a fierce hug.

No child should have to experience that, she thought furiously.

Especially not twice. 

─────────────  

The crime scenes flashed through his mind, almost as if he was there again. He twisted in his bed, his mind in turmoil. He was dreaming, some conscious part of him told himself, nothing more than that. It was just a dream. It couldn’t hurt him, not again. 

Oh, how hard he had hoped that those events were just dreams. That they were nothing more than just a figment of his imagination when he knew, deep down, that it was all real. If he had pinched himself back then, he would feel pain. He would feel the wetness upon his cheeks from crying, the tingling pain from the pinch and the violent trembling that shook his entire body, forcing him to accept this harsh reality. 

He couldn’t forget the exact moment when he saw the light snuffed out from behind the man’s eyes, nor when he had stumbled upon the woman’s body, lying in a puddle of blood. He wished he could forget it all; pretend that none of it had ever happened.

But, he reminded himself while giving a small, sad smile, a part of growing up was learning to accept reality.

This was just the beginning.

─────────────

The third time it happened, the boy was almost half-expecting it.

He tried to quell the immediate terror that had risen in his chest, and instead, stumbled away, fighting as a last attempt to regain control over his actions. He felt sick in his stomach, bile threatening to rise. He couldn’t take it any more. He wanted to turn away, wanted to run away, and pretend this had never happened. But it was no use pretending, oh no. It was too late. It always was.

He had already seen the horrific stab wounds on this particular body. 

He stifled another broken sob as he ran to find someone, _anyone_ , to tell him that everything would be alright and that everything would be fine. He blindly reached out to tug on someone’s sleeve, the tears that welled in his eyes made it difficult to see. The feel of cloth under his fingertips drew him back to Earth, smacking him in the face with the truth that had barely sunk in before. He wasn’t sure how the words tumbled out that time, only knowing of how he had collapsed near the body afterwards, unwilling to get any closer. He couldn’t do it.

He still only remembered bits and pieces of his journey back home, but even those were vague and confusing. He didn’t want to think about it at all.

He’d had enough.

─────────────

He had realised, some time ago, that these...murders...only happened when he was around the victim, either that, or he was the one to find the victims. He didn’t understand why, or what he had done to deserve this, but others were beginning to notice, because:

Once was an accident.

Twice was a coincidence. 

Thrice was a pattern.

And he was stuck in the middle of it all, trapped in a never-ending cycle of finding victims of appalling crimes. Or maybe, he thought with a shudder, even indirectly causing them. 

He just couldn’t.

Not any more.

─────────────

The fourth was a corpse, mauled beyond recognition by a large, predatory animal.

He was never going to play hide-and-seek in that place again.

─────────────

The sixth was in one of the less-populated streets, the blood dyeing a thin stream of water red in the harsh rain, almost like a miniature river of blood.

His friends were staying away from him now, the terror clear in their eyes.

They didn’t want to be next, nor did he want to hurt them.

He stayed away.

─────────────

The ninth was strangled with a length of rope, still hanging loosely from the man’s neck. 

Even his teachers were looking at him with fearful eyes.

He didn’t really talk much these days, neither did he look at people.

He couldn’t bear to see their judgemental and horrified glances directed at him.

─────────────

The thirteenth had seemed at peace, just a quiet passing, until they saw the struggling the lady had put up before being suffocated by a cold-hearted killer. 

He wasn’t going outside any more, preferring to stay inside, away from prying eyes.

Not that there were many now.

─────────────

The eighteenth and the nineteenth weren’t his parents, thankfully, but a young couple they were friendly enough with to have come over several times to visit during these dark times.

He started planning to move away to somewhere isolated and arranging with his parents for them to go travelling. He remembered that they’ve always wanted to do that. 

Any time his parents forced him outside for some sunshine or for a chore, everyone immediately ran away from him, leaving behind empty space where laughter had taken before.

Too bad those days were now over.

─────────────

The twenty-fifth was a child, just about his age when this all started, drowned in a freak accident when he went to fetch the water, at one of the only times he had to go outside.

He waved goodbye to his parents, with a smile that rarely graced his lips nowadays, and moved to a house by himself in the Forest no one dared to enter.

The isolation, the lack of human beings, the loss of judgemental looks suited him just fine, thank you.

After all, everyone feared the Deathbringer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update will be whenever. I give up on the every two weeks thing. I’m too excited to wait. This will be updated whenever I finish a chapter.
> 
> Meanwhile, the reason I don’t exactly have the time to write is because of tests. Gosh darn them. *smiles aggressively*
> 
> *whispers* Chapter 1 has been finished. ~~It will be posted on the 22/05/18 even though it’s going to be 23/05/18 for me.~~ I have absolutely no idea about what is going on with the date.


	2. I - On His Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I’m back, a bit early. I apologise for deleting this chapter before, still not quite used to how this works yet.

Weak morning sunlight filtered through the leaves, the few spots that were uncovered allowed it to stream through the glass window, painting the very picture of serenity before Shinichi threw open the wooden door, wincing at the noise it made. It was too early for this, he thought, yawning and stretching his arms in the doorway. He was still sleepy, his cerulean eyes slightly dimmed by the sea of sleepiness he had yet to wade through. He shuffled through his small kitchen, hips bumping with the counters, before making his meagre breakfast absentmindedly.

He idly stared out the window, taking in the scenery with a contented sigh. He supposed that he was really lucky that he had found this little haven in the first place, stumbling through the Beika Forest with his father by his side, tripping over almost-hidden tree roots and pushing away interfering branches, while keeping an eye out for danger. Even when he was little, his parents - not to mention everyone else - they all spun fantasies and came up with stories of what lay in the Forest. Wouldn’t they be all shocked, he realised with sudden amusement, if they knew that _he_ was what was actually in the Forest.

Still, every day in the Forest was essentially the same, with the ceaseless winds, the trees dancing to silent music concealed in the wind and the river bubbling away quietly in the background. It made such a peaceful scene, yet he loved it all the more when the winds were raging, the trees’ dances sped up as the music could be heard and the river racing through the Forest. The raindrops plummeting into his windows, as he stood outside, feeling the wind blow through his hair. He loved it. He loved the rain, and the freshness it brought the earth; how it could wash away all the dirt and grime and leave it clean; how it could sound so soothing, almost like a lullaby, when it started before he fell asleep. Sometimes he wished that the rain could wash away his past too, leaving him with a clean slate, giving him more, more possibilities and potential.

Other times, he saw himself as the narrow, lonely path that led out of the clearing; small and almost nonexistent. Because the only people who knew that _he_ existed were three people, with himself included. Few others knew only parts of him; the roles he was forced to play, to survive.

He couldn’t help but feel that way in a world that he lived in and wanted to be a part of.

Yes, he liked sitting there in his house, reading in his personal library, surrounded by the smell of books. Yes, he likedbeing alone in the Forest, just thinking. Yes, he liked the animals that lived near him, watching their young grow up and watching the leaves change their colours. Yes, he liked it all. But he craved companionship.

Maybe he was selfish. Maybe he was selfish for wanting all this when he had enough. Maybe he was selfish for wanting to bend what was already set in stone. All he wanted was to be able to show someone - a friend, hopefully - these stunning sights. He wanted to be able to share all of his ideas, he wanted to be able to just _talk_ to someone in the safety of his home, he wanted to love someone as much he loved his books and these surroundings. But he couldn’t. Oh, but there were many things he wanted but could never have, because he couldn’t.

He couldn’t.

Instead, he had to make do with fictional characters, imagining that they were right there in front of him, going with him to do all of these things. Sometimes, if he tried hard enough, he could pretend that he was there on their adventure with them, accepted into their little band with barely a few words, save for encouragement. He could immerse himself in these fictional worlds, almost forgetting everything, laughing along with them until something happens; the rain started to fall, the droplets tapping on his window, beckoning him to go outside; a tree fell somewhere in this vast expanse of forest and as its branches shook from the impact, the birds were frightened into flight; and abruptly, he was pulled back into the harsh, harsh reality.

Yet, he still couldn’t help but wish for companionship, craving for something he could not have. All he wanted was to be able to hear someone’s laugh, to be able to touch someone and to be able to talk to them and hearing them respond. But he knew, deep down, that these wishes were unrealistic.

He still had Ran, a voice whispered in his head, and he still had Sonoko, no matter how much he refused to admit it. He was lonely and he could only go to Beika to change that, so he could. He could. But still, another voice murmured, they don’t know you as _you_. They only knew Edogawa Christie - his persona - not hi—

“No!”

He stood up suddenly, slamming his hands down on the wood, his cutlery rattling on the worn table.

He froze.

He slowly sat back down, shaking his head furiously, trying to clear his thoughts. Oddly, he couldn’t help but feel that the Forest was watching him silently, waiting patiently for the moment when he finally snapped. Finally, they would communicate gleefully, had his defences broken down or had he been driven insane by the years of loneliness and doubt. He wouldn’t snap, he vowed vehemently, no matter what. He wouldn’t snap, no. He could be seen as insane, yes, but never snap. Never. He glared at the innocent plants outside, thinking that their emerald leaves were somehow mocking him, their laughter lost to the wind, their smiles hidden behind blooming flowers.

His appetite ruined, he slowly washed the remaining dishes, their clinking sounds for some reason were soothing to his troubled mind. Someone is here, it was like they were whispering, you aren’t alone. He smiled at the nonexistent words. Just a small, wistful smile as he imagined these interesting conversations inside his head. Though, at times he could get so emotional about these made up scenarios that he couldn’t help but think of himself as crazy. He had an almost uncanny ability to be able to visualise these characters now that he thought about it, even though he knew they weren’t real. Sometimes, he could fall so deep in discussion with a character or a particularly good book that a day would pass without him realising it did. It was only when the sky turned a dusty, pastel rainbow and the light was beginning to steadily turn into darkness, did he realise that he had to stop.

He hated stopping. He hated knowing that he had a reality to return to, a role he had to play on Life’s stage. He wanted to stay there forever, stay sheltered in this protective cocoon - a fantasy world - where he was allowed to be what he wanted, be _who_ he wanted. Even the cold, black and white worlds of mysteries were somewhere he would rather be than going back to reality, even though they hit a little too close to home.  Reminded him a little too much of the life he was trying so hard to forget.

He couldn’t keep doing this though, he reflected, letting him roam around in the freedom. He had to pull himself out and back in reality more often. He needed to stop escaping, and face the music. He knew that one day, all of the harsh truths that made up reality would crash down on him like a stack of stone bricks. And as he was now, he wasn’t going to survive that. He sighed dejectedly, a long, drawn-out one that was cautiously controlled so that it hid his inner turmoil. He’d had enough, he thought. Maybe it was time to go to Beika now, instead of later in the day. Making his mind up, he strode into his room, slamming the kitchen door behind him, effectively trying to shut the thoughts away. He started mentally running checks to see what he needed to grab from his trip to Beika, and currently, all that looked like were some new books.

His room was simple, with sparse furniture and decorations every now and there, backed against the plain walls. The austere surroundings would at times annoy him to no end, with nothing to define him, nothing to separate him from everyone else in the world. But that was what he wanted, wasn’t it? To be seen as the same as everyone else, not _different_ , not _unique_ either.

What did he want, really?

He was still pondering that question when he slipped on his navy dress, interwoven with the bittersweet memories of his mother teaching him how to make one, her azure eyes almost smothered in concern, the corners of her eyes strained from fatigue. They didn’t really want to leave him, he suddenly remembered. He pushed them to.

Still, he persevered, learning to survive on his own, cutting off basically all human contact. He put his make up on, becoming more and more feminine in the eyes of society. He hated that this was what he had to do to be able to talk to people, without them finding out his true identity. But still, he thought as he procured his small pouch of coins,he needed to stop thinking about the past. He needed to move on. Needed to forget.

He stepped outside of his stone-brick cottage, feeling the wind whistle past his face. Was this the sound of freedom? he wondered. Or was this just the calm before the storm? No matter, he shook his head, this wasn’t important. He was Edogawa Christie now, a mysterious girl who loved reading books and was extremely shy. A complex girl who didn’t like to talk to anyone and mostly kept to herself, but with her dark brown hair and stunningly blue eyes, she had plenty of suitors. And yet, she came and gone with the wind, only pausing to speak with her friend, Ran.

She was as wild and unpredictable as the wind, rushing from here to there, popping up every so often to breathe a new perspective into their daily lives. She carried with her an air of indifference, but those who knew her well enough all knew that that was nothing but a facade, used to fool unassuming townspeople into believing she was cold, and not at all welcoming. Which she would be, if one was stubborn enough to stay through it all. She loved dancing, swaying to a rhythm that no one but she could hear, her steps sometimes as elegant as careful brush strokes on paper, sometimes as chaotic as the flight of a thousand wings beating together. She was beautiful, everyone agreed. Charming, with a hint of unpredictability.

And that was what she prided herself on; the ability to be unpredictable. To bend the rules of society, to be seen as an individual yet fitting in all the same. To be _unique_ , and to be similar at the same time. To be a walking paradox, a mystery, one that not even the brightest could solve.

She was an enigma.

─────────────

Christie made her way into Beika, confident that she could have done this in the dark, and as always, paused to marvel at the slow but steady change from tangled trees of the Forest to the stone buildings of Beika. It was like watching a plant grow, she thought every time without fail, watching it bloom into the town they named Beika. It was a bustling town, with many expansions happening every time she visited, new buildings under construction, more and more people weaving in and out of these cramped streets. Even though it was a change of scenery, she couldn’t help but miss the greens of the Forest, the leaves that coated the ground and the trees that could be seen everywhere she looked. Trees now always reminded her a little of home - wherever that was, she didn’t know. She closed her eyes, standing just on the very outskirts of the town, leaning against one of the last trees, resting. She always needed a second here, just breathing in the chaos, the noise, and the crowds of people that roamed the streets.

She took one small step after another, keeping up the persona of the lady she had oh-so-carefully constructed from scratch with her mother. To any onlooker, she was just another woman heading towards some place she had to be, all as prim and proper as they were taught to be; there was no remaining trace of the man who lived by himself in the Forest.

Still, she made her way towards the bookshop she had so often frequented, in times where she desperately needed companionship, seeking out more thrilling adventures through the piles of dusty volumes that occupied the shop. With a small smile on her face, she stepped inside the store, the door closing quietly behind her, as she greeted the books like old friends by running a pale hand over the covers. She loved the books; their smell, the stories half-hidden behind their plain covers. She loved the quiet of the bookshop; the way no one wanted to disturb the peace by making too much conversation; how everyone kept to themselves, only interrupting when etiquette demanded it. This place was a sort of safe haven away from her own in the Forest. This place meant safety and familiarity to her; a sanctuary.

She picked up one of those books now, savouring the smooth pages and the dark, dark ink and how they contrasted so starkly against each other, like the full moon against the empty night. So different, and yet they relied on each other to be seen. Wouldn’t it be nice, she wondered, to be able to live inside one of these books? To live out the adventures the author had planned, and to know that no matter how much worse something seemed to be, there would always be a happy ending to the story? Sadly, she thought, a dark cloud suddenly passing over her thoughts, there was no happy ending to this story.

She sighed, just a short one that barely escaped her lips, her dark eyebrows slightly raised at the thought. One of these days, she vowed, she would be rid of these negative thoughts and live her life the exact way she wanted to live it. But that time wasn’t now, and as soon as she realised that, she began walking again, throughout the entire store, with her cerulean eyes scanning the shelves and piles intently. She did keep an ear out for some interesting news so that she could pretend she had been in town this whole time, and not tucked away in a forest this past month. But a part of her also prayed for no one to die on this little excursion, and that as much as she wanted to talk to Ran, her best friend won’t turn up to drag her away for another chat. She didn’t know what she would do if someone died again. Keeping her visits to crowded areas brief had dramatically reduced the amount of people dying around her, so she had avoided suspicion thus far.

Luckily - as if she could be _lucky_ , she rolled her eyes - there was some news.

The Crown Prince of Tokyo, Hakuba Saguru, had announced an extravagant ball just the day prior, and anyone who had the appropriate dress and passed the inspection upon attending would be allowed entry into the Palace in Ekoda. Rumours floated around, speculating on why the Prince had decided to host a ball now. One popular theory was that he was looking for a Queen to rule by his side when he becomes King. It made sense, she thought, picking up her chosen books one by one. The Prince was good-looking, if not a bit agitating with his infuriating habit of constantly checking the time, and it was commonly believed that he would make a good King, herself included. Another one was that this ball was just a welcome change from the monotony of the royal life, and that the Prince would instead find a suitable partner another way, one that didn’t involve the lover falling in love with his title, instead with him for just being, well, him. She herself did not particularly care about this ball, but she knew that with Sonoko - the “Gossip Queen” - hanging around Ran, they would both be undoubtedly excited about this, just like the rest of the female population in Tokyo. It was better safe than sorry, so making at least this much preparation was for in case she actually ran into Ran and, by extension, sometimes Sonoko. Everyone seemed to be excited about being able to step foot inside the Palace they had often only dreamed about going inside, and now they had a chance to make this dream a reality. Ah, if only she had the chance of making her dreams a reality.

Still, she didn’t particularly want to go to this ball, even though she loved dancing. There were just too many possibilities that something could go wrong and her true identity would be exposed. No, she shook her head, clutching her books to her chest tightly. She wasn’t going to go to the ball. She couldn’t, anyway, without the proper clothing. So, she concluded, the ball had nothing to do with her, except for irritate her with no end when the notices covered up public spaces that she so dearly loved.

Annoyed, she took her selected pile of books to pay for them, her navy dress swishing as she walked, determined to ignore the posters plastered all over Beika and inside the bookshop. She had hardly opened the door, her bag of coins significantly lighter, when she heard a voice she knew well shout behind her.

“Christie, wait!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update will be up whenever. No promises that it will be soon but I’m trying to do as much as I can.
> 
> The thing is, after like a week of no work, suddenly I have projects due left and right. *sigh* R.I.P Sleep


	3. II - Expectations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I did it! I finished it! It _is_ a little shorter than what I would have liked but whatever. There’s a few things I want to say before you start reading though.
> 
> a) I will try to upload every Wednesday (at least, at where I live) and currently, I think that’s working out pretty well.
> 
> b) Thank you all for your support on this fic, it means a lot to me and they tell me to actually do some work because I have a responsibility now.
> 
> c) You may have noticed there’s a little “44” instead of the “?” in the chapters area. That’s because I am currently working through one of my dot points per chapter and, assuming that I will continue to follow that, I will have a total of 44 chapters. It will be updated accordingly.
> 
> d) I will be starting a new fic soon (I haven’t decided when yet) and I’ll be alternating between these two fics with no discernible pattern as it all depends on my inspiration. Even so, I will try to post/update _something_ every week.
> 
> And now all that is done, happy reading!

“Christie, wait!”

Christie half-turned, already knowing exactly who it was that disturbed the serene quiet of the bookshop. Emotions flickered uncertainly through her cerulean eyes, and anyone who had looked close enough at her would see how those same emotions threatened to betray her. They could see it in the slightest tremble of the hand clutched her books; the slight widening of the eyes; the unconscious chewing of her lip.

She was being paranoid, she knew, the same paranoia that had her by the throat every time she dared to step outside. The same paranoia that drove her away from her friends and her friends away from her. It was better safe than sorry, she reminded herself, better safe than sorry. Better to take precautions than to risk everything.

What was she to do when what she had to protect herself from was herself?

The longer she stayed around people, the more likely someone could die as a consequence of her, as a consequence of them being at the right place but at the wrong time. She was not going to lose another friend or another disguise when she could help it. She wasn’t going to shower misfortune where she could avoid it, especially because she had a friend now. She was never going to subject Ran - sweet, kind Ran - to this kind horror.

In fact, she was adamant she was going to do everything in her power to make sure it stayed that way, without Ran being suspicious.

She turned around fully, brushing her hair back carelessly over her shoulder with her free hand, and pasted a fake smile. She pitched her voice higher than her normal range and exclaimed back. “Ran!” She waved daintily, raising an eyebrow as she watched Ran make her way towards her. “I didn’t see you before.” She was pushing through her crowd, looking a bit out of place in her cream, hand-embroidered dress that she liked. Christie chuckled quietly, hiding her amusement behind a hand as she saw Ran try in vain and inevitably fail to retain her “noble lady” appearance. It was hard not to, as the people around her stared at her in disgust at rebelling against society’s expectations, by pushing and elbowing through the crowd. Ran was always like that, Christie remembered. She was always wild but responsible, completely different to the “damsels in distress” stereotype everyone expected her to be. That was really what drew Christie to her in the first place, to not push her away as much as the others. It was a mixture of a certain stubbornness she possessed and this breaking stereotypes thing that interested her.

Out of them two, there were no weak damsels in distress or terrified maidens in need of rescue.

“Christie!” Ran repeated again, a serene expression etched onto her face. Even though she was no more than an arm’s length away now, she was no closer to finding a way to leave quickly. Ah, what the hell, she mused, she wasn’t just going to pass up this opportunity to talk to Ran, when she hardly ever saw her. Speaking of Ran, her usually pretty features were twisted into an ugly frown as she glared harshly at everyone and their disgusted looks. As a testament to how absolutely terrifying Ran could be, even without her karate skills, they all went back to what they were doing, leaving the place eerily silent, despite the crowd’s mutterings just moments. And that, she realised, was exactly why she shouldn’t tell Ran the truth. She might end her. She gulped.

She turned back to face Christie again, a crinkle of concern between her dark eyebrows. Surprisingly, but not quite unexpectedly, she wrapped her arms around her in a warm, friendly hug. Christie hugged right back, grateful for the human contact whereas a worm of worry slithered into the back of her mind, worried that she might hurt her, might hurt the one who had accepted her so selflessly. “I’m so glad I ran into you today, I almost never see you.” Ran mumbled into her ear, and then pulled away. She almost asked her to hug her again, but bit her lip to stop those words tumbling out. Who was she to demand such affection?

“I’m sorry about that,” she apologised sincerely, her blue eyes holding the amethyst ones intently, gazing into their darkest depths, where she could read every emotion that lingered there. She had wanted to visit sooner, she wanted to tell her. She really did. She wanted to be able to laugh at nonsensical things with her, and have fun for once with someone, but without being judged. She missed those days where she could do whatever she wanted and still be seen as _normal_.

But the less death that plagued Beika, the better, right?

Yes, she thought as she conversed with Ran, watching her eyes sparkle in the sun. Of course it was. Less people grieving meant more music, more laughter and more dance, which in turn meant more fun and less and less time for her to be around in Beika. What was one person’s happiness compared to so many others’? Still, she selfishly wanted to find a balance, to find a way for her to be around people all the same, despite her having corpse attraction powers. Death was just too unpredictable for her, even if she tried to find a pattern. Sometimes, she could stay for hours - accidentally - in Beika and nothing would happen, sometimes she could just step inside and screaming could start. Though, she sighed mentally, touch-starvation was a feeling she was unfortunately familiar with and could predict. It was weird, she had always thought, needing someone desperately to touch her - give her a hug, for example - and was something she wished she could avoid. No such luck, she was afraid.

“Oh, don’t apologise.” Ran laughed sweetly, her laughs like tinkling bells to her ears. She took Christie’s hand in one elegant swoop and leading her onto the significantly more dusty street outside, a while away from all the looks, before dropping it again. “I’m sure you had something to do and was very busy as a result.” Yes, _busy_ , she thought irritated, that was the excuse she gave every time when she needed one. God, she was so understanding, she mused sadly. She almost wished Ran would be a bit more angry at her, because more often than not, she felt like she was taking advantage of her kindness. “It’s alright.” Her smile that had tugged on her lips, faltered. It wasn’t alright, not at all. Such a lovely person shouldn’t have a self-proclaimed best friend who was never around.

Oh, how she longed to tell Ran the truth, to just not _lie_ to anyone, for once. Not lying, now, she thought bitterly, wasn’t that a novel idea. She took care not to show these thoughts on her face, instead choosing to act on autopilot, with small smiles and nods here and there. Lies, lies, lies. It seemed like she couldn’t get away from them, seeing that Edogawa Christie’s life was just one big lie, an intricate story built on the foundation of nothing but more than what she had.

She was tired. So, so tired of lying. So, so tired of keeping up appearances so that she could just fit in when others had to do nothing but exist. She had to carve out her own space with nothing but her bare hands when they could fit seamlessly into the folds of Life. It was what she had to do, what she had to pay— She pushed the thought away, trying not to think about this any further. “Yeah.” She turned the smile into a weak one, and tilted her head as if she was thinking about what she wanted to say. She really just wanted to change the topic. “Oh! That’s right. I heard that there was something about a ball happening soon?”

Shockingly, Ran groaned loudly, her eyes full of fond exasperation. “Not you too, Christie.” She shook her head in mock disappointment, giving her a sly smile to ensure she knew that she was joking. Christie just rolled her eyes at the comment, already out of conversation topics. What was she supposed to talk about and what did Ran want her to talk about, anyway? “Sonoko had been going on and on about that. You know she would be excited.” She grimaced, her mind already one step in front of her as it conjured up images of Sonoko, bossing everyone around, asking _questions_ with her normal amount of expressions. Gosh, it sounded like a nightmare, and it was all in her head. Instantaneously, she felt a surge of sympathy for her best friend. Poor Ran, who had to suffer through all that, but she knew that probably hadn’t minded. “And, it was only announced yesterday.”

“I can imagine, Ran.” Christie laid a pale hand on her shoulder in a comforting gesture, her other one still clutching tightly onto her books. Her eyes did betray her amusement though, with a little crinkle around them. “She planned everything down to the last detail already, hasn’t she?”

She nodded, sharing the same amusement. “Let’s see,” she started, and began ticking off items one by one with her fingers, in time with her listing. “Dresses, make up...” she let out a frustrated noise when she couldn’t remember. “Hair, transport—”

“Wow.” Her mouth formed a perfect “o”. “I...I don’t even have words.”

Ran grinned, showing her white teeth. “I was the exact same when she told me.”

“Wow.” She repeated, blinking. “Even for Sonoko, she really outdid herself this time around. I remember last ball she only got done half as much in double the time, but that was only because she was sighing dramatically and swooning over her, and I quote,” Ran grinned again, knowing exactly what she was about to say. “ ‘daring knight in shining armour who would come and whisk’ her ‘away for a magical evening in the Royal Gardens’.”

That had been scary, Christie recalled that last ball all too well, as Sonoko and Kyogoku-san - her “daring knight in shining armour” - had decided to venture out into the forest after their little escapade into the Royal Gardens after Ran had chased after them, determined to not let them out of her sight for some reason unbeknownst to Christie. In any case, Sonoko had placed her trust in Kyogoku-san’s very capable hands, just before they stepped foot inside, trusting that his superior combat skills would save them from any danger lurking in the Forest. Christie herself did not even hear about that incident until a few days later, when she visited Ran again. Sonoko had been there, tearfully describing the terrifying adventure she had inside the Forest. How the trees loomed over her like the monsters she had heard about in her childhood, how every sound had seemed so unbearably loud and how the light shifted from place to place, confusing her and her darling. “It was so...so dark!” She had sobbed, clutching onto Christie’s arm, of all things, with Ran offering her a handkerchief. “I didn’t know what was in there but eve-even though I-I had Makoto-san, I was still so-so scared!” Luckily for her, Sonoko had made Kyogoku-san leave with her, unable to stay in there any longer. At that, she secretly heaved a sigh of relief, but she would be lying if she said that she didn’t warm to Sonoko a bit more after that event. Still, they could only calm her down and comfort her that day, but at least Christie could console herself that she would be safe inside the Forest for just a bit longer.

Now it was Ran’s turn to roll her eyes, a slightly wistful emotion surfaced at the same time, in her amethyst eyes.

How could she forget, she wondered, that her best friend had a significant other too? One that even she had mistaken as a man at first, but then learnt that she was really quite a complex girl with all her mystery? Sera was often out of town, only living temporarily in Beika as she was sent out on dangerous missions for the Kingdom, usually to the Kingdom of Osaka as the Crown Prince of Tokyo never had a good relationship with the Crown Prince of Osaka, despite their parents’ best efforts. What pained Christie the most was just that, was just how both she and Sera weren’t around most of the time to just spend time with Ran. They both left gaping holes in Ran’s life that no one else could ever fill up perfectly. Sonoko, she knew, tried her hardest. She was there when they were all gone, too wrapped in their own problems to even consider the kind girl who was there always, just waiting for that one day they dropped everything for her. She made Ran laugh when they were gone, she made Ran smile through the pain of being left behind, cracking jokes and cheering her up the only way she could. Oh, she kept realising with a stabbing pain in her heart, Ran should never have been that lonely in the first place. She gave them both so much and took nothing in return; her sweetness knowing no boundaries. She was willing to wait, wait for the day they both came to realise how precious she was, how important she was. She shouldn’t have to do that. None of them deserved this gentle human being.

“But, I honestly don’t understand the appeal of the Palace, if I was Sonoko. I feel like she had been there so many times, she doesn’t need to go there again.” Her own voice tore her away from her thoughts, as if she had been underwater and was just pulled out, above the surface. She glanced at Ran, who had concern sketched all over her benevolent face.

Ran still nodded, her hair blown in all different directions from the playful breeze. “You know how much she likes to show off, and it’s one of the only times she can see Kyogoku-kun.” She leaned in closer, and started whispering in her ear. “For Sonoko, the Palace is this place full of love and magic; it’s where her dreams come true and where everything is possible, even the most abstract.” She pulled away, smiling. “Do you understand now?”

“Of course,” Christie smiled back, a small and vulnerable one that made half of what she actually wanted to convey. “she and her lovey-dovey boyfriend, Kyogoku-kun, who is almost never here.” _I want a lovey-dovey boyfriend_ , passed in a distant part of her brain. Her immediate reaction was to smack herself in horror, but restrained herself just in time as Ran stared at her weird jerking motion with raised eyebrows.

“Are you...” Ran’s eyes swept up and down Christie, taking a mental note of her balled fist. “...alright?”

“Ye-yes.” She replied quickly, avoiding eye contact, a faint blush creeping up her neck. She replied a little _too_ quickly, thought Ran, confused at her best friend’s out-of-character behaviour.

“Are you sure?” The crinkle of concern appeared again, stark against the smooth skin. Ran was really worried about her, Christie realised, a touch of warmth wormed its way inside her heart. Ran really was too saccharine, she thought, in a little haze of happiness.

She nodded her head. “Yes.” She was _fine_ , anyway, wasn’t she? She always was. No one had any reason to worry about her. She was fine.

“Come on!” Ran took her hand again, still looking somewhat concerned. Let’s go to my house. I haven’t seen you in a few weeks and I have more things to talk about. And,” she added as an afterthought, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “With any luck, Sonoko should be there too.” Ran smirked.

Christie groaned.

─────────────

Needless to say, Christie was not particularly happy when she arrived at Ran’s house by her side, only to see an equally annoyed Sonoko already there, dressed as fancily and eye-catching as ever.

Oh, they thought simultaneously, glancing at Ran.

She was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and please leave a comment for anything that you want to say to me or about the fic.
> 
> Thanks!


	4. III - Surprise & Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will rewrite this chapter over the weekend, because I don’t like it. It’s too happy and crude and it doesn’t fit with the general theme/writing style of the story. So just a placeholder with my first draft.
> 
> *****Currently just a placeholder.**

_How?_

The question echoed through Christie’s now-blank mind, drowning out every other thought she had, bouncing off of every available metaphorical surface inside her head. Before long, she came to her senses and reality crashed back into place, as she snuck a look at her now very smug best friend, who had her triumphant ha-I-told-you expression stuck fast in place, paired with an infuriating smirk. Suddenly deciding that she needed to wipe that look off Ran’s face, she hurriedly sat down on the nearest chair, tucking in her navy dress in as she did so. Sometimes, she mused as she sneaked yet another look at Ran, Ran could be so annoying. But what was a little annoyance compared to Ran’s obvious amusement from this situation? Still, she gazed long and hard into Sonoko’s teal eyes, willing her own eyes to convey the message of ‘ _please say something, anything’_ to her, as fast as possible.

Thankfully, Sonoko seemed to have received the message, as she immediately launched into a lengthy recount of what had happened since the last time Christie had talked with Ran. She always almost grateful for her overly enthusiastic chatter, filling her in on all the big events that she had unfortunately missed, all the trips to faraway lands that Sonoko herself had gone on, all the latest gossip, all the—well, just everything really. She watched as Ran rolled her eyes fondly and added in details here and there, and she watched as Sonoko animatedly gestured to show her this and that, so that she could almost forget all her troubles and just allow herself to live in the present without worrying for once. She smiled and asked the right questions at the right places, fuelling the conversation and hiding her growing worry, the longer she stayed the bigger it grew, behind amused expressions.

But when, inevitably, the conversation turned to that of the upcoming ball, when they finally ran out of past experiences to talk about, Christie still, irrationally, _did not_ want to leave. Her rational side was screaming at her to leave, to run away before something bad happened but her reawakened irrational side was pointedly ignoring all the constant screaming. She was having too much of a good time, to even consider leaving, which was socially unacceptable in the first place to leave in the middle of a discussion, those two. So she stayed, listening to what Sonoko had already planned for the ball. “I’ve already planned everything,” Sonoko announced proudly, adjusting her shoulder-length hair. Now her cheeks sported spots of colour, blossoming from the times she spent laughing and vigorously talking. “Everything down to the last detail.”

”Of course you did.” Ran chimed in. “In fact, Christie and I were just talking about that on our way back, weren’t we?”

”Yeah,” Christie nodded, only half listening to the conversation, too busy watching the fascinating way that each person carried themselves outside.

“Well, anyway,” Sonoko continued. “I’ve prepared everything. Carriage, dresses for the three of us - Christie, your body shape is close to Ran’s right?”

She nodded again, distracted.

“I knew it! I was right, Ran. Anyway, the plan is, when we get there, we’re going straight to the Prince, who would most likely be inside the ballroom. And then, we curtsy and leave. We’re going to him first because I want to show off my brand new dress; it is so pretty, with all of its simplicity. Ran’s is a dark blue whereas, Christie, yours is an azure one that matches your eyes!”

She nodded again, happy that her dress was azure.

Wait—

Her dress?

Was she going to the ball?

“What?” She burst out, confused. “What do you mean my dress?” This couldn’t be happening right now, she reasoned, she couldn’t be going to the ball. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t allowed to, it was just that she couldn’t unless she wanted innocent people to die.

“Come on, Christie,” Sonoko started impatiently. “Pay attention.” She raised her voice a little higher, making sure that she could hear her. “I, Suzuki Sonoko.”

“Yes, please do hurry.” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she fully realised what she was saying. Sonoko glared at her. “I-I mean, go at your own pace. I’m not in a hurry.” ‘ _I am in a hurry to get out of here_ ’ was what she was actually thinking, but she didn’t dare to say that out loud, not now, when Sonoko was angry. An angry Sonoko was a dangerous Sonoko, despite her somewhat innocent looks.

She cleared her throat. “I, Suzuki Sonoko, ordered you, Edogawa Christie, a beautiful, azure dress for the upcoming ball.”

“But...but I never said I was going to the ball!” She practically yelled, the paranoia of someone finding out her identity creeping into her very bones. She...she couldn’t go to the ball, no matter how much she wanted to. It didn’t matter what she wanted, because her needs were always lower than keeping people - other, normal people - nice and happy and _alive_. It was always others’ needs first, then her. It didn’t matter if she had to go hungry for a couple of days to avoid the big monthly markets that attracted people from all over, it didn’t matter if she had to trek through the forest after dark for water in town when the creek in the Forest dried up because of the drought. It didn’t matter. _She_ didn’t matter.

That was basically what everyone told her through their actions by pushing her away.

There were times where she honestly didn’t want to live like this any more, in a constant state between fear and paranoia, between the danger and between being in danger. She was just tired, exhausted of the way she had to live, but then she thought of her parents, who were travelling around, well, everywhere. She pushed them away, and she knew they didn’t care how horribly everyone was treating her, they didn’t care that she attracted corpses like there was no tomorrow. They loved her, and all they wanted, was to see her alive and well. And happy, but they haven’t seen her happy, really, truly happy ever since that fateful day when that man died.

“Too bad,” Sonoko’s voice wrenched her out of her dark thoughts. “I’ve already ordered it, Christie. By the town’s best dressmaker too!”

“It’ll be fun.” Ran piped in, her sweet face smiling kindly at her. The ice inside her heart thawed a little, a tiny chunk breaking off. “Have you been to a ball before?”

“No, I haven’t.” She replied, already knowing which way this conversation was going.

“Then come!” This time it was Sonoko, with a gargantuan smile. “If you haven’t been, then it is all the more reason to come. There’s food—”

“People—”

“Music—”

“Dancing—”

“Exactly! Dancing!” Sonoko almost shrieked, her hair bobbing wildly in excitement. “You love dancing, don’t you, Christie?”

“Y-yeah?” Uh oh.

“Then you will love the ball.” She expressed confidently.

“Come with us?” Ran questioned, taking one of her hands to place it in her own.

“You should,” Sonoko added. “I’ve been to so many, and yet every one is still fun, maybe even more so; you will love it, I’m sure.”

Christie gazed into their eyes, and then at their expectant faces; Ran’s benevolent, but she could still see a sense of yearning there; Sonoko’s excited and eager, but still sincere. Sonoko really wanted her to go.

Maybe, maybe just this once wouldn’t hurt.

“Fine, but only if we can leave quite soon after we arrive, maybe one or two hours later?” Even if she allowed herself this, she still wasn’t staying for longer than she had to. Usually an hour or two was the minimum, so she was safe, right?

This would turn out fine, wouldn’t it?

“One more hour?” Sonoko tried, catching Ran’s fleeting look of disappointment at the short time frame. “I’ll buy you that book that you’ve wanted for ages.”

“Really?” Her eyes lit up. “You’ll buy me the _Detective Samonji_  novel I’ve been trying to find for months?”

Sonoko rolled her eyes. She had never known another girl more interested in those books than Christie. “Yes.”

“Deal.”

They all smiled.

Ran’s and Sonoko’s cheers lasted long into the afternoon, until it was almost dark, and they spent that time planning what was it exactly that they were going to do in the three hours they had.

─────────────

She was an idiot.

Why the hell did she agree? She shouldn’t have, she shouldn’t have, she shouldn’t have—!

She should have said no and resisted the temptation.

But no, she just had to agree like the idiot she was!

She was finally nearing the forest, she realised with a start. She was too lost in her own thoughts before to notice. It was strange, she thought, strange that two people could have so much power over her. How they could convince her so easily, even though she knew, she just knew it was a bad idea.

She had made her own rules, after the first few...mishaps. She had to minimise her socialising, she shouldn’t go outside unless she was in a disguise, and she shouldn’t spend large amounts of time around people. She was just scared, so so scared.

It was the kind of fear that crept into her whenever she let her guard down, it was the kind of fear that could find a way in, into her heart no matter how much she tried to keep it out. She couldn’t just place people in danger, when she was the danger. She just wanted to help. She wanted to help others, not herself, because she couldn’t very well barge into some town and watch everyone run away from her, again. She just couldn’t take that any more.

It was draining to see that when she was only about eleven years-old.

Who knew, maybe she deserved it from a previous lifetime?

It hurt. No matter what she might say about placing others first or doing this for the benefit of other people, it hurt. It hurt that she was doing all of this to prevent their impending deaths and delaying them just a little, and what she got in return was them running away, screaming, whenever she even so much as peeked out.

Maybe it was true that she was antisocial, maybe it was true that she never got along with anyone in her childhood really. Maybe that was all true. But she still didn’t think that she deserved this, whatever this was.

Did she deserve to be punished for something that she didn’t do?

She didn’t have an answer for that, nor did she want to answer the question when her imminent doom was a more pressing problem.

So why had she agreed?

She knew that it was an absolutely terrible idea, but still she had agreed. Her rational side was yelling at her, giving all reason and evidence that made a very convincing argument. Her irrational side, on the other hand, didn’t care, not really. It was telling her that she needed to have some fun, and that this one time, probably wouldn’t hurt. It probably served to be more convincing that the voice actually kind of sounded like Ran’s.

She sighed, drawn out and long. There was no point trying to change it now, frankly enough. Sonoko would get mad, Ran would be sad, and she honestly didn’t want to lose her only two friends over three hours of a stupid ball. No matter how much pain she might be in, she wouldn’t make her friends angry or sad for any reason, especially because of her. She cared, she truly did.

She pointedly ignored the voice telling her that she could be losing more than just her friends if her identity was found out at the ball.

She also didn’t particularly care any more.

Let them find out.

She could put herself first for once, couldn’t she?

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone!
> 
> I hope you’ve all enjoyed this fic. Please leave any comments or suggestions in the comments section and I’ll try to reply. Please leave a Kudos if you liked this. :-)
> 
> Thank you!
> 
> P.S. Please be warned that I have school and homework to do, as it is my first priority, so don’t expect regular updates. I’ll try to update ASAP for everything but absolutely no promises.
> 
> P.P.S. I suck at tense so sorry for any random changes in tense, I’m _trying_ to get better at it. Emphasis on _trying_.


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